I'm so scared. I don't to go back. Ever since they told me that they know, I've been scared to go back. But I have no choice. I'll feel a million eyes on my back as I walk, and feel like my pants have ripped or they have a massive stain. Just thinking about it has left me with a numb void in my abdomen, like it's been carved out with a scalpel. I want to sleep and sleep until time has a meaning again. Since when has my life had meaning? I was getting better, feeling relatively set into a routine rather than feeling like I was just existing to pass time. But no, of course the incident had to happen. How can I ever be happy? I was so close, so very close. But now, my depression is worse than ever. I want to stay in bed and nothing else. Every movement I make takes all the effort in the world. Because it's all pointless. But tomorrow is going to be a fucking horrible day for me.